


The Moon in the Arms of Night

by sarcastrow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Heterosexual Sex, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-03
Updated: 2008-07-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 16:54:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10813035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastrow/pseuds/sarcastrow
Summary: 25 years have passed and two star-crossed lovers find each other again.Her hair, her bearing, the way she talked with animated hands, all of it told him that the woman talking with Harry was the one woman he had ever really loved.





	The Moon in the Arms of Night

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
> **Author's notes:**
> 
> The Luna/Dean community “Take My Hand” [](http://community.livejournal.com/luna_dean/profile)[ **luna_dean**](http://community.livejournal.com/luna_dean/) liked this one, I hope you do too.

Reunion of the Moon and the Night

 

 

He hadn’t seen her for at least six years, but he would know her anywhere. From four hundred feet away he knew it was her. Her hair, her bearing, the way she talked with animated hands, all of it told him that the woman talking with Harry was the one woman he had ever really loved. He had tried, after his mother had finally succumbed to Alzheimer’s, he had really tried, but Dean had found out, rather rudely, that he talked in his sleep. Four times he had been shaken awake by the woman in his bed, and asked, “Who’s Luna.” All four of those relationships had ended shortly after that. When the fourth one ended he had pretty much given up. He’d had a few “Shag Buddies”, but they all knew they would never have his heart; it’d been taken long ago.

When he had last seen her, at Albus and Rosie’s graduation party, all the pain had resurfaced, and he had beaten a hasty retreat back to London. She’d been standing there in the Burrow garden happily chatting away with Rose and her boyfriend. Dean still smirked whenever he thought about Ron’s initial reaction to the fact that his precious daughter was dating Scorpius Malfoy. It was just too funny. But then her husband and twins had joined the conversation, the pain of the loss overwhelmed him, and he just had to leave. Lavender had been so kind. She, of all his friends, knew just how much it hurt Dean to see Luna. She had given Seamus a quick kiss, apparated back to Deans flat with him, made a pot of tea, and held him while he wept.

That had been the last time they had been at the same place at the same time. He had found on that day that, as much as they liked to call him a “hero”, there was one thing he just couldn’t face. So he had made sure that it never happened again. But now maybe there was hope. Rolf had died, suddenly and unexpectedly, on a mission in South America. He had been looking for one of the rare magical creatures that so occupied his and Luna’s life. Dean wanted to run to her immediately, but he had come to his senses, and decided that he would have to wait for her to mourn and recover. So he had waited, but that was over now. They were both free, and he wasn’t about to waste one more priceless second.

Harry’s smile broadened as Dean approached. Luna hadn’t seen him yet, and was still chattering on about her latest obsession. When he was about twenty feet away she froze. Dean smiled, he should have known. All those years ago he had learned just how sensitive she really was, and it was just another thing that made him love her all the more. She turned too him, and a smile he hadn’t dared to see in so long lit her face. He closed the remaining distance between them, and stood before her, looking deep into her eyes.

“Oh yes, I agree. It’s been long enough,” she said, and they fell into each others arms. 

“Well, I’ll just be moving along now,” Harry said as he made to leave. “’Bout fucking time,” he said under his breath.

Dean was choked with emotion. He couldn’t speak, and he felt lucky that he didn’t have to. Luna was soaking him in. He knew that she could feel all the pent up love that was washing over him in such powerful waves.  So they stood there, wrapped in an embrace, letting this one perfect moment draw out.

 

“That’s beautiful, just beautiful,” Lavender said as Harry strode up to her and Seamus. She was wiping tears from her eyes. “It’s been a long time coming. I’m so glad Dean came today, he almost didn’t.”

“I still don’t get how ya know more about me best mate’s love life than I do,” said Seamus. “I didn’t think he still carried that torch, or at least not as high as he used to. I mean, he was seeing all those other birds for a while.”

Lavender turned to him. “I suppose I can tell you now. Never, love, never. It’s always been her. He says she ruined him. He couldn’t love anyone else, ‘cause he never stopped loving her. I’m sorry I haven’t told you this before my love, but he didn’t want to burden you with it. Plus he was a bit concerned you might do something… Irish.” They all laughed. Seamus had a reputation for getting a little carried away when helping out his friends. They called it getting his Irish on.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny strolled up to the group. The late summer sun, low on the horizon, cast their long shadows out towards the lake. They had all been there to take part in the thirtieth anniversary of the dedication of the Monument to the Fallen of the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione, in her capacity as Minister, had been called upon to be the master of ceremonies. Much to Ron’s delight, she had taken the opportunity to deliver a mercifully short speech, and then she gently hurried the remaining speakers through their remarks before delivering the dedication again. 

Hermione had written the dedication a few months after the battle. When Kingsley had asked she had been completely taken aback. “Surely there are others with better writing skills and experience.” she had said. He laughed in his baritone with a great deal of gusto, and told her that he was very sure that nobody could do a better job than she could. This had led to more than a few sleepless nights while she worked and reworked the speech. In the end it had been a scant two paragraphs, but those two paragraphs were now etched into the sides of the monument bearing the names of the fallen. It had taken a long time for Hermione to admit that Kingsley had been right.

“What are you guys yucking it up about?” Ron asked.

“Just Seamus,” Lavender said hugging her husband.

“Yeah, we’re just thankful that he never tried to help Dean out with his little love life problem,” Harry said. At Ron’s questioning look he nodded his head toward the lake, where Dean and Luna still stood, locked in an embrace.

Ron’s face lit up. “Serious?” he said, “Oh that’s great. I mean I liked Rolf well enough, but I always hoped one day… ‘ats just great.”

The couple at the lake parted just enough to allow them to sink into a deep loving kiss. Luna pulled her wand from her robes, and never leaving the kiss, they dissaparated.

“How’d she do that? Are the wards down?” Ron asked his wife.

“I am Minister, Ron.”

“Where’re they headed, I wonder?” Seamus asked no one in particular.

Lavender smirked, Ginny blushed, and Hermione chuckled.

“Alright, what’s up you three?” Harry said to them.

“Not everything happens by chance, Harry,” Hermione said, and Ginny started to laugh.

“Yep, if we didn’t point you guys in the right direction from time to time, and then play our parts well, the human race would have died out long ago,” Ginny said as she snuggled under Harry’s arm.

“So,” laughed Harry, “you’re telling us that the survival of the species depends on you girls being a bunch of sneaky bitches. Is that it?”

“Spot on, Harry,” Lavender said, and they all laughed.

 

Dean felt the apparition, and was mildly curious where Luna was taking them. He really didn’t care as long as it was private. It was a long one, and when they folded back into reality he could hear the sea and smell the salt air as he took a deep breath. He broke the kiss and drew back to look at her. When he opened his eyes they almost immediately filled with tears. Shell Cottage was to one side, the cliff was to the other, and they were standing on the exact spot where he had first kissed her. Luna’s eyes were brimming too. His emotions were just so powerful, and added to her own it was a bit overwhelming.

“Dinner’s ready,” she said in a low husky voice. It really was hard to talk.

“You knew?”

Luna looked up at him through her eyebrows, a grin on her face.

“Lavender?” he said.

“And Ginny, and Hermione.”

“I was set up, eh?” he said chuckling, and wiping the tears from his face.

“No my love, just guided a little.” She took his hand, “Teddy’s loaned us Dilly for the evening, so I’m sure there’s a very good meal waiting for us. Let’s go see what she’s done.”

 

Very good was a bit of an understatement. A small roast beef, a ham, and a smoked duck were present, as was Dean’s favorite side bubble and squeak. Plus broccoli, a chick peas and peppers dish that the elf had created, and two different salads sat on the side board. She had also raided the Grimmauld wine cellar. They sat in the dinning nook, with the setting sun casting an amber glow over them as they ate. 

They talked of their times together after the war. They talked about Dean’s mother, and he cried a bit more as he told her how the last two years of her life she didn’t even recognize him. She had died in awful pain, inarticulate and lost. It was a deep scar that Dean knew would never truly heal. They talked of her twins, now at Hogwarts, and how they made her so proud. They talked of his art, and he humbly admitted that he was doing very well. Dean was well known in both the Muggle and wizarding art worlds. They talked of Hermione’s book that he had illustrated, and how it was in its umpteenth printing.

At one point they moved to the loveseat facing another widow looking out at the ocean. The stars came out as they sat and talked. Dean was the happiest he had been in twenty-five years. Here next to him was his hearts desire. She wanted to be there, and she was there. He was still having trouble grasping that it had finally, finally happened.

 They talked of their other loves. Luna told him that, though she did love Rolf, and would have been happy with him her whole life, she never forgot Dean. There was a part of her that was his and his alone. Dean told her of his failed relationships, and why they failed. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, wrapped in each others arms as the sea serenaded them.

The years had been exceedingly kind to Luna. Dean could swear that but for a little gray in her hair, a few lines around her mouth and eyes, and maybe half a stone, she was exactly the same. He wished that could be said of him. He had lost most of the hair on the top of his head and had taken to shaving the rest. He was actually thinner than he’d been when they were together. Being a confirmed bachelor, he really didn’t eat as well or as often as he should have.

He had no idea what the time was when she woke him. It was still dark, and the stars were blazing in the night sky. They had both drifted off in the loveseat, and Luna had awakened first.

“I think we should go upstairs,” she said.

“Um… yeah… yeah, uh.”

“Eloquent as ever,” she giggled, “get a bottle of wine and some glasses, and meet me in Bill and Fleur’s room.” She kissed him, and went up the stairs.

Dean went to the kitchen, and found Dilly snoring on a blanket on the floor. He took anther blanket that was lying nearby, and covered the sleeping elf.

“Thanks old girl,” he whispered, “you really helped make this the best evening of my life.” He found a bottle of Bordeaux on the counter, and couple of wine glasses on the board. Being careful not to clink them, he crept out of the kitchen. His heart was pounding as he went up the stairs. He hadn’t been with a woman in a few years, and was afraid that he’d be a bit rusty, or that he’d lost his stamina, or the thousand other worries that plagued him when he though about what was probably going to happen. Calling on his Gryffindor courage, he slapped those worries around and buried them. This was Luna, and he wasn’t about to mess this up.

Right before he opened the door to the bedroom he took a deep breath and remembered. This was the woman of his dreams, literally. He hadn’t had a night in years that wasn’t occupied by her, and now she was on the other side of this door waiting for him. With a blooming confidence he opened the door, went in, and he nearly dropped everything he held. She was spectacular. Standing there in the candlelight, wearing a silk nightgown that hugged her in all the right places, she smiled at him and gestured at the wine. He sat it on the dressing table, and opened it with his wand. 

“I think this needs to breathe a little, me too.” His eye’s raked over her. “Blimey, Luna.”

Any thoughts he may have had about his inability to perform were dashed immediately, as he was hard as a stone in an instant. The silk clung to her emphasizing her form. Her breasts where somewhat fuller now, and showed just a bit of use from childbearing. Her hips where a little wider, and the silk revealed that there was an abundance of the blonde curls that haunted his most secret thoughts. He crossed the room in two strides, and caught her up in an embrace. They were both grinning with delight, and she began unbuttoning his shirt.

 

Then she started to sing.

 

Dean’s most cherished memory was of this. She had found out early in their relationship that singing was an incredible aphrodisiac for him, so most of the time when they had made love, she had sang in the early parts, before the panting and screaming. She chose a popular wizarding song from time during their courtship.

 

_He came to me in the night_

_My dark wizard_

_Taking may thoughts_

_Taking my breath_

_Taking my heart_

_My dark wizard_

 

_My dark wizard came for me_

_My dark wizard has claimed me_

_My dark wizard is man of fire_

_In the night, in the moonlight_

_He’s there haunting my dreams_

 

_My soul is bare in his embrace_

_My dark wizard_

_He can see behind my mask_

_My deepest secrets_

_The depths of my love_

_And he knows_

_What pleases me_

_My dark wizard_

 

_And I, I know_

 

_My dark wizard came for me_

_My dark wizard has claimed me_

_My dark wizard is man of fire_

_In the night, in the moonlight_

_He’s there haunting dreams_

 

 With every button she opened she placed another kiss down his chest, until it was off and tossed to the floor. Still singing, she pushed him to the bed, and pulled his shoes and socks from his feet. When she crawled unto the bed over him he slid his hand up her side, and reveled in the feel of the silk on her skin. She let out a soft sigh as he cupped her breast. Her hands went to his belt, and she began removing his trousers. Dean stood up and let them drop to the floor, while he pulled the night gown off over her head. As she finished the song Luna knelt before him, slid down his boxers, and grinned broadly as she grasped his cock.

“I remember you,” she said, and slowly enveloped the head in her mouth.

Dean almost fell to the floor. His knees shook uncontrollably, as a stream of unintelligible syllables left his mouth. With a kiss she withdrew from him, and laughing pushed him onto the bed. He couldn’t believe that she was even more beautiful naked. A few small stretch marks, and some very old scars, were all that marred her perfect form. He pushed himself to the center of the bed, and she crawled up to meet him. Her breasts brushed their way up his body as she closed on him in a kiss, and then back down as she resumed her ministrations to his cock.

She was the best, the absolute best. He had never, ever, had another woman do what Luna could do with her hands and tongue. It really was a kind of magic. After a few minutes he could tell that if she kept it up it would put a much too early end to the encounter, so he drew her back to him. It was his turn. He kissed her deeply, and then rained kisses down her body until he came to the forest of curls. Her taste, her scent, the soft moans that filled the air, It was like reliving his favorite dream. He had had that memory replay over and over in his dreams, now it was real, and he knew just what to do.

He was laving his tongue back and forth and in circles over the hood of her clit. Then he lightly sucked the whole of her folds into his mouth, laved them again, and slid the tip of his tongue up to the hard nub he found under the hood. She grabbed his ears, just as she had all those years ago, and pushed him into her. She was whimpering and shuddering under him. Dean started doing light circles and crosses over the little nub and her body stiffened. He picked up the pace, went down just a little harder, and that was it. Her hands left his head, fisted the bedclothes under them, and a primal scream of lust rent the air. She was bucking, and yelling his name, as pulse after pulse of pleasure raced through her. Finally she reached down and gently pushed the top of his head.

“Stop, stop, stop.” She drew several panting breaths, “Oh Dean, I’ve missed that so much.”

He kissed his way back up to her neck, and snuggled into her, laying down on his side, an arm draped over her tummy.

“What, you never taught Rolf that? It’s not that hard. I taught Harry and Ron in about twenty minutes.”

“Well,” and Luna actually blushed, something Dean had seen maybe twice in his life, “Rolf had an ‘opinion’ about oral sex.”

“Okay?” and Deans eyebrows practically went over the back of his head.

“Yes. Hands and genitalia, but no mouths, He had an idea that it invited nargles.”

“Okay?” Dean was having trouble with the notion that the last time he had done this with her was the last time she had had it done. How could a man not want to spend his life licking her perfect pussy? “Well that’s…” and he was at a loss for words.

“Oh, it was alright, we had a full and satisfying sex life, but it wasn’t like it is with you, not nearly,” and she was kissing him again.

Dean broke the kiss, and sat up chucking. He grabbed his wand from his trousers on the floor, and with a quick flick the wine and glasses floated across the room to them. He poured a generous portion for each of them, and sent the bottle back to the table.

“Well then,” he said, still laughing under his breath, “To oral sex, back in both our lives again.”

They both had to stop laughing before they actually drank the toast. Being rather thirsty they downed the wine in short order, and as Luna leaned back to put her glass on the bedside table, Dean leaned forward and captured her breast in mouth. She took his glass and placed it beside hers.

“Oh yes, where was I?” She pushed him onto his back, “I think about here,” and she took him as far into here mouth as she could.

“Oh fuck, Luna.”

There was a smacking sound.

“Soon enough, but I want some more of this.”

“Alright then,” and Dean placed a pillow behind his head so he could watch.

She ran her tongue up the underside of his cock, and sucked the head into her mouth. With one hand she ran her nails through the hair on his balls, while the other was wrapped around him, stroking in time with her bobbing head. It was the most erotic and beautiful sight he had ever seen, and decided right then that he would commit this image to paper and ink, with Luna’s permission of course. 

She was thoroughly enjoying herself, Dean could tell. Luna liked giving head, just like he liked reciprocating. Rolf, he decided, was an idiot. He may have been a Ravenclaw, and maybe as smart as Luna, but still, no man with a brain in his head would turn this down. Gods she was great. Luna looked up into his eyes as she worked, and began humming the Hogwarts song.

Her smile became so broad that she couldn’t continue, so she released him, crawled up his body, and positioned herself over him.

“I’ve had children,” she said.

“Good, if you where still as tight as you were twenty-five years ago I’d last about three seconds.”

She smiled down at him, her hair forming a wall around them, and took him in one full plunge. Yes, she was not as tight, but she was just as hot, and wet, and perfect as he remembered. She rode him for a while, her breasts beating out the rhythm, and then he switched positions and drove into her with deep gentle strokes. The candlelight revealed a rosy glow on her skin. It bloomed from her chest, ran up to her face and down to the glowing pink under the curls his dark shaft was buried in.  She came, and then came again. Luna pulled him down to her, and kissed him with the passion that he had almost forgotten she possessed. He quickened his pace.

“Almost there, you ready”

“Oh yes Dean, come with me.”

A few more powerful thrusts and he was shouting her name, and weeping, and convulsing, and clutching her to him with all his strength. He could feel her clenching rhythmically around him, and she was biting into his shoulder. They fell back to the bed, disoriented and breathless.

“Did I hurt you?” she said when she could talk again.

He rubbed his shoulder “Nah, didn’t break the skin. You alright?”

“Never better, really, never better.”

Dean leaned up on his side next to her and cupped her face. In a voice choked with the stored feelings of twenty-five years said, “I love you, I have always loved you, and I have never stopped loving you, not for one second in thirty years.”

Smiling, her eyes shining, she said “I love you too, Dean.” 

 

Dean woke, and for a scant moment couldn’t place where he was. The bed was much softer than his, and the ceiling was the wrong color. Then it all flooded back to him. He turned his head to the side, and she was still there. It hadn’t been a dream. A few tears slid down his face as he remembered the night. He lay there, watching her sleep, for a long while before she stirred and looked into his eyes.

“Good morning, my love.”

“Good morning,” he replied, and drew her into a kiss.

They made slow, passionate love. His hands roamed her body learning and remembering. She rode out orgasm after orgasm as he gently licked and stroked her. She did that special thing she knew with her tongue and hands, and they cried out in ecstasy when they came together. She was tucked under his arm, her head on his shoulder, idly drawing patterns on his chest with a finger nail, and watching the gooseflesh it made in it’s wake, when he found he could speak again.

“So, how’d you arrange this?”

“Well it wasn’t so much me as Lavender.”

“Remind me to thank her.”

“Ginny and Hermione were a big help too. But it really all started with a lunch date I had with Lav about four weeks ago. You see I’d been thinking about you for… a while, so I asked Lav how you were getting on, and she told me.”

“She did, did she?”

“Yes, she did. She’s a good friend to you.”

“The best really, I don’t know how I’d have gone on a few times if it weren’t for her.”

“She and Seamus love you, you know. They’ve been concerned for your health for a while. You’re much too thin Dean.”

He chuckled a bit and said “Yeah, well, that was just unrequited love. Don’t think I’ll be having that problem in future.” He looked at her hopefully.

“Definitely not,” she said, and kissed him.

“I love you. Merlin, I just keep saying that.”

“I don’t mind, Dean, not at all. I love you.”

They snuggled in silence for a while.

“So when’s check out time? I imagine Bill and Fluer want their house back at some point.”

“Oh, we can stay as long as we like.”

“Really,” he said smiling, “how’s forever sound.”

“That’s actually what I was thinking,” she said, propping herself up and looking down into his eyes. It almost hurt to see that much love coming from her. “Bill and Fleur will be by next weekend to collect their furniture.” She kissed him. “You see, I’ve bought Shell Cottage.”

 


End file.
